)?r 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Cliap.i-f:i"Copyriglit No. 

Slielf..O_&^ L\<\ 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




7 

HELEN (^HAFFEE.") '!X'V';W-f..n. 



IVITH ILLUSTRATIONS RY 

NOBLE-IVES. 



FRANKLIN. OH 

THE EDITOR PUBLISHING 

1895- 




SECOND COPY, 






58124 



Copyright, 1895 



TOrs. ^dnn OIlTaffcr Nobk, 

"^tJho guidrd mv first steps in life antl litrratixrc, tlris 
first step into tUr luorld of rlivtlTiniral rxprrssion 

is ilrdtratccl 
ruitl; all gratituiiE aatl loue. 




n ^-'JlNDEX 



Page. 

A Gift 9 

Two Lights lo 

Bob White i r 

Guido Reni's Confession 13 

Blending 16 

How the Peony Became White 17 

Speed the Coming 19 

Two Violets 20 

One Cause for Thanks 21 

An After-Marriage Valentine 23 

The Pater Noster 25 

Her Refusal 26 



6 

Page. 
At Sleepy Time 28 

Famil}' Quarrels 29 

Mine Leedle Von 31 

Good Enough Fer Me 33 

Her Literary Streak 35 

Changeable 36 

Romance and Reality 37 

The Difference 39 

Phoebe 42 

Didn't Know 44 

Who's Dar ? 46 

Mamm\- 47 

The Oddest Man 48 

Our Longin' 50 

At the Post Meetin' 51 

Ole Man Never Said as Much 55 



<^/m. 











leisure !ii)es. 



A GIFT. 

As from above on evening river calm 

The brightest lights of heaven mirrored shine, 

So on my soul a poem, pure, divine, 
Reflected was from God, as holy Psalm. 

No v^ord gave symbol to this song of mine ; 
Dumb speaker, of my life the better part, 
Its throbbing rhythm the beating of my heart, 

Its rhyme was joy and sorrow, line on line. 
Through the interpreters 'twixt soul and soul 
I give my poem to the world to day. 

What though none heed it ? none may call it good ? 
I freely give the gift, though small the dole. 
I shall be satisfied if One will say, 

" Let her alone ; she hath done what she could." 



10 



TIVO LIGHTS. 




OUR little candle 
through the win- 
dow cast its light; 
The lonely man 
without looked 
up and thought 
it bright. 
We sat together, she 
and I. 
To us, what was the past ? 

our life was to begin ; 
We cared for naught out- 
side, our light was all within. 

The setting sun aslant my little window- 
glows, 
*abt me m} neighbor toward his home 
with light step goes. 
Alone outside the door sit I. 
The past is past, the future but a time to bide ; 
The blaze is bright, but see, the light is all outside. 



11 



BOB IVHITE. 

The apple trees are snow and pink, 

And Bobbie White is glad to-day, 
A-tripping through the orchard; 

His books and slate are laid away. 
Is that his mother calling him, 

His holiday to spoil and blight ? 
A bird it is in the woodland near 

That shrilly sings, " Bob White ! Bob White ! " 

Flake-laden branches bend again. 

And Robbie White, a fair, tall youth. 
Is strolling through the orchard, 

And at his side walks lovely Ruth. 
" Now tell me whom you love the best? " 

"Why, Rob, I cannot tell you quite." 
Close by a saucy voice calls out, 

" Bob White ! Bob White ! Bob White ! Bob 
White ! " 



12 



Once more the boughs are bent with bloom, 

And Robert White, an aged man, 
Walks slowly through the orchard. 

Where once he lightly leapt and ran. 
The place unchanged is dear to him. 

The birds call low in the fading ligh:, 
As if they meant his snowy locks, 

The old-time song, " Bob White ! Bob White ! 



13 



GUI DO RENTS CONFESSION. 

' I've many sins, should I confess them all, 
But, father, now I've little breath, 

My manikin's a shape of death ! 
Pray give its folds a lighter fall; 

' For now my sight is at a loss, 

I'd look my last on forms of grace, 

And pray the coming dark efface 
All lines I drew for love of dross; 

' Which was no pretty wrong, I count. 

That other heavy sin you know, 
Or heard it rumored long ago. 

Now hear it given its full amount. 

' First turn that crucifix away, 

Lest it accuse at life's release — 
For San Lorenzo's altar piece, 

Would God 'twere turned to shapeless clay ! 



14 



' No, no, for on my soul its trace 

Would linger still. Oh, worldly sin ! 
I wrought not love, but fame to win. 
The agony within that face — 

' It tells to men the anguish hour 

When Christ one moment met despair. 
I see him stretched before me there — 
My model, helpless in my power ! 

' I saw the death within his eyes, 
His fee I kept for each complaint. 

And yet I knew him hungry, faint ; 
I knew the look ere spirit flies. 

' Oh, but a moment might he live! 

My brain was mad, my brushes flew ; 
As life fast fled, my death-face grew ; 

I knew not what I did. Forgive, 

' O Christ ! My last stroke done. 
The look of pain gave place to rest, 

His head fell forward on his breast ; 
My hideous race with death was won ! 



15 



' My craftman's fingers did but trace, 
While his the soul that gave the life ; 

'Twere worth the agony, the strife, 
To leave the world its Savior's face. 

' So bring the crucifix a-nigh, 

And shrive me now. My model, see ! 
His face in glory looks at me, 

While 1, like him, in anguish die ! " 



16 




BLENDING. 

ONG I gaze at sky and sea, 
Till my tired, dazzled eye 

From afar cannot discern 

Which is sea and which is 
sky. 



Each to-morrow coming fast 
Gives its place unto to-day. 

In the past I can not find 

Which was morrow, which to-day 

I have loved thee, truest friend, 
Living has been all for thee, 

Till my heart now cannot tell 
W^hich is thee and which is me. ' 



17 



HO W THE PEONY BECAME WHITE. 

Because I was a peony red 

They passed unheeding by, 
And said too straight I held my head, 

And much too stiff and high. 

No fragrance I to them gave out, 

I had an awkward name ; 
The tulips all began to pout 

And say it was a shame 

I grew so near to them. One day, 

Close by, a lily white 
Unclosed, and turned her face my way ; 

I knew their blame was right. 

Then something happened very strange. 

I learned to love, you see. 
And by and by, in sweet exchange, 

The lilv, too, loved me. 



My petals all like hers grew white, 

And soft and fair to see, 
And on that day of love's delight 

A fragrance came to me. 



19 



SPEED THE COMING. 

For the good time coining 
We are ever sighing ; 
Watching till dying 

For the good time coming. 

For the good time coming, 

If idly waiting, 

We are belating 
The good time coming. 

Oh, the good time coming. 
It awaits our greeting 
At the half-way meeting. 

No farther 'tis coming. 



20 



TWO VIOLETS. 



WO violets blue 

By the sweet garden edges, 
Like eyes that are true, 
Two violets blue 

In that old garden grew, 
Where we plighted our 
pledges ; 
Two violets blvie, 
By the sweet garden edges. 




The violets are dead 

That bloomed by the hedges ; 
(Oh, the hearts that have bled !) 
The summer is fled. 
The violets are dead. 

Forgotten the pledges ; 
The violets are dead 

That bloomed by the hedges. 




21 



ONE CAUSE FOR THANKS. 

The last day of November, 
Thanksgiving Day, they say, 

The President declared it. 
And I don't work to-day. 

Suppose I must be thinking 
For whai to render thanks; 

It's not for patent leather, 
Nor money at the banks. 

Nor for the silk and jewels 
My wife and children wear ; 

Nor for my next month's sal'ry 
They spent to see the fair. 

But then, there must be something, 
If I would search ni}- mind, 

Some little cause for thanking — 
Let's see what I can find. 



22 

I'm thankful for ( to-morrow 
December will begin ! ) 

For one more day of freedom 
Before my bills come in ! 



23 



AN AFTER-MARRIAGE VALENTINE. 

The fourteenth ! Yes, to-da3^'s the day 

When that old love of mine 
Used once to send me every year 

Some dainty valentine. 

Sometimes a bunch of roses, 

A gem in casket hid ; 
Or else a rhyme he wrote himself — 

At least I thought he did. 

This faithful knight of mine and I 

Were wed a year ago. 
Is all romance so soon forgot ? 

Alas ! I fear 'tis so. 

Who is it, Jane? A messenger? 

A letter ? Let me see. 
The darling ! 'Tis his writing ! 

He's not forgotten me. 



24 

He's sent a loving scribble — 
That dear old Jack of mine — 

Just as of old — " Dear wife, 
I'll bring Jones home lo dine. 



25 



THE PATER NOSTER. 

After the French of De RiXiishonne, 

■ Why do you pause, my little maid, 
Ere half your prayer is said ? 

Com:mence again and say, ' Give us 
This day our daily bread.' " 

' ' Give us ' " " Well, well, the rest. 

Why do you stop, my dear, 
And whisper softly to yourself 

Some words I cannot hear?" 

I asked of God, my mamma dear. 

To give to me and you, 
Because just bread is very dry, 

A little butter too." 



26 




HER REFUSAL. 

AUGHTY pussy, silly pussy, 
This is not a time for play. 

Don't you see, my pretty dearie, 
'Tis a sad and solemn day. 



When a maiden not 3'et twenty 
Has to coldly write a " no " 
To a — well, a handsome suitor — 
Big black eyes — oh, puss, you know. 

Once in signing a death warrant. 
One of history's greatest men 

Had a little favorite kitty 

Playing with his mighty pen. 

Puss, they'd not believe he wrote it ; 

Kitty dear, now do you think 
/ can write it when you bother ? 

There ! Your paw had rubbed the ink ! 



27 

Surely now he cannot read it ; 

He can never even guess, 
So I'll have to write another, 

And I think I'll tell him " yes. 



28 



AT SLEEPY TIME. 

'Come, little Bessie," mamma said, 

" Before in your warm, white nest you creep 
You must pray to God beside your bed, 

And ask Him to care for you while you sleep. 

But Bessie's heavy eyelids fall. 

And hide the play-tired little eyes ; 

A " Now I lay me," that is all ; 
Then slowly, drowsily she sighs, 

' Now, mamma, you may take the light, 

Cause I'm as sleepy 's I can be, 
And, if you please, I guess to-night 
I'll let the p'liceman care for me." 



29 



FAMIL Y O UARRELS. 




Y BROTHER Isaac and 
his wife, 
An' my wife Jane, an' 
me, 
Hev allers been about 
ez thick 
Ez anv folks could be. 



Ef Jane she has a new print dress, 

Why, Marthy has one too. 
An' lends Jane patterns fer the girls 

When Marthy gits some new. 

But Jane was standin' at the door 

A-lookin' t'other day, 
An' Ike an' Marthy driv right by, 

An' never looked this way. 

So Jane, because she took offense, 

Ter show she didn't care, 
Went past their house to neighbor Brown's, 

An' borrowed coff"ee there. 



30 

All' then I couldn't stand no more ; 

I says right there ter Jane, 
" I'm goin' up ter brother Ike's, 

An' ask 'em ter explain." 

It setrms that Marthy 'd kinder thought 
That Jane had kinder thought 

That Marthy 'd kinder thought o' her 
Some things she hadn't ought. 

So then we all shook hands around, 

An' greed ter call it square, 
An' never think, but jest speak out. 

An' have it settled fair. 

An' so we're jest ez folksy now 

Ez we have ever been. 
I spose 'twill last till some of us 

Should " kinder think " agin. 



31 



MINE LEE OLE VON. 

A great big Deutscher 's vat I vas. 

Dey calls me pusiness man, 
Und sa}^ to eadt, und sell some goots, 

Is all to dink I can. 

But dhere is odder dhoughts I haf. 

Vot comes der efnings in ; 
I sit peside mine fire und dhink 

Off dot leedle girl vots been. 

How I can't see dot leedle vou, 

A-sitting on my knee, 
Und hear dose funny questions now, 

She vonst vould ask off me. 

" Vhere did der old moons go," she said, 
" Vhen Gott mit dem vas dhrough ? 

Dit dhey cut dem oop in leedle stars, 
Und make a moon all new ? 



32 

" Und mit der bieces vot vas left 
Did dhey make der angels' eyes, 

So not to lose von single shark 
From oudt der big blue skies ? " 

So now I look oop at der moon, 
Und vish vhen old und sp'iled, 

Dhey'd make me angel's eyes off him 
To see mine leedle schild. 



33 



GOOD ENOUGH FER ME. 

They say I missed ni}^ callin'; 

I might a-been a sage 
If I'd a-gone ter college 

When twenty year of age. 

They say my gift wuz language ; 

Without a-workin' much, 
I might a-been quite fluent 

In Hebrew, French an' Dutch. 

I own 'tis very flatt'rin', 
But answer 'em, " You see, 

The language Shakespeare writ in 
Wuz good enough fer me." 

I used ter read his play-books 

When jest a little lad. 
Though hard ter understand, yet 

I liked the ring they had. 

Then what's the sense in learnin' 
The things I'd never use ? 

Fer though I'm glib at talkin', 
I wouldn't have excuse 



34 

Ter chat in French an' Latin 
With Lihu, John an' Zeke, 

A-settin' on the store steps, 

'Cause Yankee 's all they speak. 

There may be language finer, 
An' them more soft an' clear ; 

The one I courted Jane in 
'S the one I like ter hear. 

I tell my team in English 

Ter " git up," "haw" an' " gee," 
'N the language Shakespeare writ in 

Is good enough fer me. 



35 



HER LITERARY STREAK 

A sort o' literary streak 

Had struck my daughter May ; 
She dug at readin' all the uight, 

An' writin' all the day. 

She read an' writ Napoleon, 
An' talked about the same, 

Till I was so dead tired o' him 
I couldn't bear his name. 

I told her once at supper time 
'Twould sp'ile m}- appetite 

If she should even drop a hint 
Of Napoleon that night. 

But when I come ter serve the meat, 
She spoke right up so smart, 

" Oh, give me anything, papa, 
Except the Bony part." 




36 



CHANGEABLE. 

We were sittin' in the parlor 
One evenin' cold and drear ; 

John thought that I'd be warmer 
Ter let him hitch up near. 

We were walkin' out next summer, 
Of shade and rest in search ; 

John thought that I'd be cooler 
To come inside the church. 

But now if when it 's chilly, 

I say a fire'd feel good, 
He snarls, " I'm warm. If you ain't, 

Why don't ye git some wood?" 

In June he says, " The milk-room 

Is cooler'n out o' doors ; 
Why don't ye skim that calves' milk, 

So I can do mv chores?" 



37 



ROMANCE AND REALITY. 

My John was awful bashful ; 

He'd something big to tell, 
But though he daresn't say it, 

I'd knowed it quite a spell. 

At last one summer evenin' 

I sot outside the door ; 
Along came John an' stood there 

Fer a minute er two er more. 

He said at last, "The young folks 

Air walkin' out, I see, 
An' I didn't know's ye'd want ter 

Perhaps walk out with me ? " 

I took his arm, not answerin', 
Not knowin' what ter say, 

An' so we walked 'thout speakin' 
Fer oh, an awful way. 



38 

At last he kinder whispered, 
" Now won't ye be my wife ? 

Then we can walk ter-gether 
Like this, fer all our life." 

An' now I find his question 
Meant more than pretty talk 

Fer John'll never hitch up, 
We allers have ter walk. 



39 



.»/ t^^^ 




THE DIFFERENCE. 



It's nigh on thirty year or more 
Since Hannah left her mother. 

An' we agreed that she an' I 
Could live with one another. 



40 



An' all these years of married bliss 
That I have shared with Hannah, 

Have gone to prove the difference 
'Twixt man's an' woman's manner. 

Now Hannah has her garden beds, 
And tends her plants an' posies, 

While I weed out my turnip plot, 
An' hoe my " early roses." 

Then Hannah has her cats and dogs, 

Her Poll and pet canary, 
While I think more of useful beasts 

Ter keep the farm an' dairy. 

We're both contented with our lot; 

I let her have her parrots ; 
She never minds that I prefer 

The turnips, beets an' carrots. 



41 



For in this life the pretty things 
Are put beside the common. 

And that's the reason why a man 
Was made to love a woman. 



42 



PHOEBE. 

Jest you hear that scamp a-singin' 
Spite of bluster, blast an' snow ; 
On that twig he's smart for clingin', 
Though the sharp nor' westers blow ; 
'Pears ter sing 
'Bout the spring, 
When a nest shall in the tree be ; 
Tells it all ter Phoebe, Phoebe! 

Sort o' sets my heart a-glownng 

Thinkin' of the little cot, 
With a garden round it growiu', 
Which'll be the " dearest spot," 
Snug and new, 
Jest fer two ; 
Nary one '11 gayer' n we be. 
When I wed my Phoebe, Phoebe ! 

How the wind his feathers ruffles ! 

Still he's callin' to his mate, 
(Though the cold his chirpin' muffles). 

She won't come; I wouldn't wait; 



43 



Were she true, 

I tell you. 
She would listenin' fer yer chee be ; 
Find another Phoebe, Phoebe ! 

Who's a-passin' in that cutter? 

Looks like Phoeb an' Tom, I vow ! 
Rather 'pears as if he'd got her, 
While I chirruped on the bough. 
Pshaw ! O wall 
There is Sal! 
She'll as pert an' sweet fer me be 
As that fickle Phoebe, Phoebe ! 



44 



DIDN'T KNOW. 

He was sittin' in the kitchen, 
Lookin' out at piles of snow ; 

Said I, "Father, who's that comin'? 
Father said he didn't know. 

Soon I saw 'twas Joseph Baker, 
So I said I guessed Fd go, 

'Cause he'd likely come fer father ; 
Father said he didn't know. 

Wall, I jest went in the pantry, 
Say in' I must mix some dough, 

Mother'd want ter bake ter-morrer; 
Father said he didn't know. 

There they sot 'n talked together. 
While the fire wuz gittin' low; 

Joe, he said 'twas growin' colder, 
Father said he didn't know; 



45 



Guessed we's goin' ter git a cold snap. 

Wall, I listened close ter Joe, 
Heard him ask if I was 'round 'bout : 

Father said he didn't know. 

Joe. he said he'd like ter see me, 

Kinder hitchin' to and fro. 
Asked if father thought I'd have him ; 

Father said he didn't know. 

Then I came in kinder shyly, 
Fer my heart was flv;tterin' so. 

An' I answ^ered fer myself, 'cause 
Father didn't seem ter know. 



46 



JVHO'S DAR? 

When I come to Mandy's cabin. 

Wid my heart a-boundin' high. 
She'd be tendin' she want knowin' 

An" she'd call when I come nigh, 
Just ez hef she didn't car'. 
"Who's dar? who's dar?" 

Den I ma'ied her one mornin' ; 

Life was happy dem few yeah. 
She 'ud hoi' de do" an' ask me, 

When my step outside she'd heah, 
•'Fo' I lift de latchet, sah, 
Who's dar ? who's dar ? " 

Now I specks I'll wait all tremblin' 
When I reach dat golden do' 

Till I hear dat voice a-callin' 
Fer ter tell me whar ter go. 

Softly callin' down de sta'r, 

"Who's dar? who's dar?" 



47 



MAMJ/r. 

In de mornin" raammy say. 
" Heah, you rascals, out de way; 
You black little chilluns, play I 
How's I gwine t' sweep de flo' 
Wid you runnin' "roun" in do' ? " 

Noon-time come an' mammy call, 
" Good-fo'-nuffin's, leave dat ball! 
Doan' you let dat baby fall I 
Come to dinnah right away I 
Specks I'se gwine t' wait all day?' 

Night-time come, and mammy cry, 
" Leave dat dirty ole mud pie. 
Naughty chilluns. come by-by." 
Den she rock us sof an' sing. 
" Neaf-de-shadder-ob-Dy-wing." 



48 



THE ODDEST MAN. 




T'S Joseph Price Vrn. talkin' 'bout, 
The oddest man in town, they'd 

say, 
But all the oddness I ken tell 
Was somewhat after this 
a-way : — 



A neighbor p'raps had lost 
a cow, 
An' there the next day 
in his stable 
Another'd stand. Who 
hitched her there 
Ter even guess he wasn't able. 



Another'd maybe lost his wife. 
The little ones a needin' care, 

An' him away all day to work 
To git enough ter eat an' wear. 



49 



The others likely'd shake his hand, 
An' draw their faces down a minute: 

Joe's shake wuz far more comfortin', 
It allers had a dollar in it. 



50 



OUR LONG IN \ 

The days ain't been unhappy, 
Sence we left the little cot, 

Where I brought home my Mary 
To share my earthly lot. 

We've had a sight o' comfort 
In this big house we own, 

Yit sometimes think with sorrer 
Of good times that have flown. 

The farm was poor and skimp}'— 
We're better here by far ; 

But the old place has our longin' 
We've a little grave down thar. 



51 




AT THE POST MEETIN\ 



JEST come home from meelii 
Of Number Sixteen Post ; 

We had consid'rable business, 
It bein' time a-most 



Ter think of Decoration. 

We counted up the flags 
Ter put above the comrades, 

(Though just them little rags, 

'Twould tell 'em we remembered, 
An' there wuz several more, 

As Colonel Briggs wuz sayin'. 
Than jest the year before. 

Then Higginson he riz up : — 
" I've somethin', boys, ter say 

About our celebration 
The thirtieth of May. 



52 



■ The young men of the village, 

Thet plays inter the band, 
With fine new martial music, 
Give us ter understand 

' They'd like ter show their buttons. 

An' march us 'round in style, 
An' let folks hear some music 
That's re'lly worth a-while. 

They say we're gittin' shaky ; 

Thet poor old Uncle Lyme 
He plays the fife outrageous, 

And never keeps the time ; 

Thet we're so few in number 
There's scarce enough to shpw ; 

But with their band a-leadin'. 
The squad 'u'd have ter go. 



53 



Wall, boys, now as ter Lyman, 
He's gittin' old, we know; 

Ter blow the tunes is harder 
Than thirty years ago ; 

But there is some among us, 
As sech a mark has kep', 

That with an angel's trumpet 
We couldn't keep the step ; 

An' some on us remembers. 

In days of sixty-one. 
That fife inspired t' victory ; 

1 'most c'u'd say — it won ! 

' Now, boys, I'm jest advisin', 
It's you as has ter say ; 
Shall horn an' buttons lead us, 
Kr shall old Lyman play ? " 



54 



An' each on us set silent, 

A-lookin' at his boots ; 
But when we march, the thirtieth, 

I oruess old Lvman toots ! 



55 




OLE MAN NEVER SAID AS MUCH. 

HOUGHT a sight o' that young- 
est son, 
All the neighbors knoucd it; 
Ole man never said as much — 
Time 'n' agin he showed it. 

Wan't much in fer romance, though 

Dretful fergivin' natur' ; 
Purty hard a son o' his'n 

Couldn't a-trod it straighter. 

Run in debt fer his dad ter pay, 

Promise 'n' go 'n' break it; 
Ole man tried ter give advice, 

Eli wouldn't take it. 

Took ter his heels 'n' run away, 
No one knowed his where'bouts ; 

Gone fer fifteen year er more, 
Some say more, but there'bouts. 

LofC. 



56 



Come straight ter hum agin, 
'Thout so much 's er shillin'; 

Knowed his dad set store by him, 
And 'ould keep him willin'. 




Eli stepped up side the 
door. 
Asked if he could show 
him 
Which road led to Galves- 
town. 
Ole man didn't know him. 

So Le stood 'n' talked a 
spell, 
>ittin' narvous rather ; 
i lU'lly said, 'n a story way, 
" Don't ye know me, fa- 
ther ? 

Eli's eyes was gittin' mist ; 

Ole man still regardin', 
" Glad ter see ye, son," says 
he, 
" Come out 'n' see my 
gardin.' " 



